to  OKIE 
HYMES 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


ROOKIE   RHYMES 

BY 

THE    MEN    OF 

THE    1st.    and    2nd.    PROVISIONAL 

TRAINING    REGIMENTS 

PLATTSBURG.   NEW    YORK 

MAY    15— AUGUST    15 

1917 


HARPER    y    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 

NEW     YORK     AND      LONDON 


ROOKIE  RHYMES 


Copyright,    1917,    by   Harper  &   Brothers 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 

Published    September,  1917 


17 


CONTENTS 

PUBLICATION  COMMITTEE 13 

FOREWORD 15 

Robert  Tapley,  Co.  5,  ist  P.  T.  R. 

PART  I— POEMS 

STANDING  IN  LINE 19 

Morris  Bishop,  Co.  8,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THE  FIRST  TIME ,  21 


tj     ONWARD  CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE 22 

D.  E.  Currier,  2d  Battery,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THEY  BELIEVE  IN  Us  BACK  HOME 24 


Anch  Kline,  Co.  i,  ist  P.  T.  R. 

ODE  TO  A  LADY  IN  WHITE  STOCKINGS 29 

Robert  Cutler,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 

—     "AVOIRDUPOIS" 31 

D.  E.  Currier,  2d  Battery,  ist  P.  T.  R. 

3    Go! 35 

J.  S.  O'Neale,  Jr.,  Co.  4,  zd  P.  T.  R. 
THE  PLATTSBURG  CODE 36 

R.  L.  Hill,  Co.  5,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
o 

A  CONFERENCE 38 

Donald  E.  Currier,  2d  Battery,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
SUNDAY  IN  BARRACKS 41 

Anch  Kline,  Co.  i,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THE  BALLAD  OF  MONTMORENCY  GRAY 43 

Pendleton  King,  Co.  6,  2d  P.  T.  R. 


432055 


CONTENTS 


Page 

(URLS       51 

Robert  M.  Benjamin,  Co.  3,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
A  LAMENT 52 

H.  Chapin,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THE  MANUAL 53 

George  S.  Clarkson,  Co.  4,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THOSE  "PATRIOTIC"  SONGS 55 

Frank  J.  Felbel,  Co.  2,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
SATURDAY  P.M 58 

Harold  Amory,  Co.  5,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
How  THINGS  HAVE  CHANGED 62 

C.  K.  Stodder,  Co.  9,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
ARMA  FEMINAMQUE 63 

W.  R.  Witherell,  Co.  7,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
OUT  o'  LUCK 65 

W.  K.  Rainsford,  Co.  7,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
SHERMAN  WAS  RIGHT 69 

Joe  F.  Trounstine,  Co.  4,  zd  P.  T.  R. 
TROOPSHIP  CHANTY 70 

Harold  Speakman,  Co.  4,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
THOSE  RUMORS 71 

F.  L.  Bird,  2d  Battery,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
WAR'S  HORRORS 72 

Kenneth  Mclntosh,  2d  Lieut.  O.  R.  C.,  Co.  4,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THE  CALL 73 

Allen  Bean  MacMurphy,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
BEANS 74 

Charles  H.  Ramsey,  Co.  8,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
FORWARD"?" 77 

John  W.  Wilber,  Co.  5,  ist  P.  T.  R. 


CONTENTS 


Page 

CHANT  OF  A  DERELICT 78 

Ed.  Burrows,  Co.  3,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
PREOCCUPATION 80 

Charles  H.  Ramsey,  Co.  8,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
INOCULATION  DAY 83 

Morris  Bishop,  Co.  8,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
DON'T  WEAKEN 85 

R.  T.  Fry,  Co.  5,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THE  THREE 87 

Harold  Speakman,  Co.  4,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
To  THE  LITTLE  BLACK  DOG 89 

A.  N.  Phillips,  Jr.,  3d  Battery,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
WHEN  EAST  is  WEST 90 

W.  R.  Witherell,  Co.  7,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
To  MY  SWEETHEART 92 

Every  Rookie  in  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
PLAY  THE  GAME •.«...      93 

E.  F.  D.,  Co.  2.  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THE  STADIUM,  PLATTSBURG 95 

Harold  Speakman,  Co.  4,  ist  P.  T.  R. 

RUBAIYAT    OF    A    PLATTSBURG    CANDIDATE 96 

W.  Kerr  Rainsford,  Co.  7,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
DREAMS 99 

L.  Irving,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
A  20  REGIMENT  " WHO'S  WHO" 101 

J.  Elmer  Cates.  Co.  2,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
EUREKA 105 

E.  F.  D.,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
FOURTH  COMPANY,  N.  E.  SONG 106 

George  S.  Clarkson,  Co.  4,  ist  P.  T.  R. 


CONTENTS 


PART  II— SONGS  AND  PARODIES 

Pait 

LONG,  LONG  TRAIL 109 

G.  Gilmore  Davis,  Co.  10,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
WILLIE'S  PA no 

J.  Felbel  and  L.  H.  Davidow,  Co.  2,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
COMPANY  2,  NEW  ENGLAND 112 

Paul  J.  Field,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
To  THE. RESERVE  CAVALRY 113 

F.  E.  Horpel,  Co.  9,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
WE'RE  ON  OUR  WAY  TO  DEUTSCHLAND       114 

Lieut.  Fletcher  Gark,  O.  R.  C.,  Co.  10,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
I  WANT  TO  BE  A  COLONEL 115 

F.  E.  Horpel,  Co.  9,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
I  WANT  TO  BE  A  DOUGHBOY 116 

Kenneth  Bonner,  Co.  10,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
OUR  BATTLE  HYMN       117 

James  C.  McMullin,  Co.  5,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
NEW  ENGLAND  WILL  BE  LEADING 119 

Lieut.  Cyril  C.  Reynolds,  0.  R.  C.,  Co.  10,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
ON  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  RIVER  RHINE 120 

J.  J.  Riodan,  Co.  3,  zd  P.  T.  R. 
"THE  SIMULATING  OF  THE  GREEN" 121 

Lieut.  Joseph  Gazzam,  Jr.,  O.  R.  C.,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
DON'T  SEND  ME  HOME 123 

E.  M.  Anderson,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
COMPANY  NINE 124 

0.  W.  Hauserman,  Co.  9,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
WE'RE  On  OUR  WAY  TO  EUROPE 126 

T.  L.  Wood,  Co.  9,  ist  P.  T.  R. 


CONTENTS 


Page 

COMPANY  5  SONG 127 

James  C.  McMullin,  Co.  5,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
DOUBLE  TIME       128 

W.  J.  Littlefield,  3d  Battery,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THE  STH  NEW  ENGLAND 130 

Anonymous,  Co.  8,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
MARCHING  otf  THE  RHINE 132 

Lieut.  Cyril  C.  Reynolds,  O.  R.  C.,  Co.  10,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
EGGS — AGERATED       133 

Robert  B.  House,  Co.  8,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
WITH  APOLOGIES  TO  KIPLING'S  "THE  VAMPIRE"      ....     134 

R.  E.  Hall,  ist  Troop,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
FINIS 136 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

COVER  ILLUSTRATION,    C.  L.  Yates,  Co.  i,  ist  P.  T.  R. 

LET'S  Go!! Frontispiece 

Lieut.  P.  L.  Crosby,  O.  R.  C.,  Co.  2,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
THE  FIRST  TIME Page       21 

R.  K.  Leavitt,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
RIGHT  DRESS — MARCH! "         24 

C.  L.  Yates,  Co.  i,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
A  TEST  OF  DISCIPLINE "         27 

C.  L.  Yates,  Co.  i,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
WHAT'S  YOUR  NAME? "         33 

R.  K.  Leavitt,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
A  CONFERENCE "         38 

R.  K.  Leavitt,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
ALWAYS  WITH  ANOTHER  FELLOW "         49 

Mr.  Sleeper,  Co.  9,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
THERE'S  A  HUNGRY  SURGEON  WAITING "         58 

R.  K.  Leavitt,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
A  SHADOW-POINT^'  BOCHE "         63 

R.  K.  Leavitt,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
S.  O.  S .       "         67 

Mr.  Baskerville,  Co.  4, 2d  P.  T.  R. 
A  Miss  AT  5  O'CLOCK "         75 

C.  L.  Yates,  Co.  i,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
MESS?    YES!! "         81 

R.  K.  Leavitt,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 

Title  by  Anch  Kline,  Co.  i,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
WHEN  EAST  is  WEST 90 

R.  K.  Leavitt,  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 
WITH  THE  ROOKIE  TO  THE  END "       139 

Mrs.  Gertrude  Crosby,  wife  of  Lieut.  P.  L.  Crosby, 

Co.  2,  2d  P.  T.  R. 
THE  END  OF  A  PERFECT  DAY       End  Papers 

Lieut.  P.  L.  Crosby,  O.  R.  C.,  Co.  2,  2d  P.  T.  R. 


PUBLICATION  COMMITTEE 
Edward  F.  Dalton,  Chairman  Co.  2,  ist  P.  T.  R. 

ist  P.  T.  R.  2nd  P.  T.  R. 

W.  Dyar,  Co.  i  W.  J.  Littlefield,  Btry.  3 

P.  J.  Field,  Co.  2  T.  C.  Jessup,  Co.  I 

G.  B.  Blaine,  Co.  3  E.  E.  Henderson,  Co.  i 

A.  F.  Woodies,  Co.  4  F.  J.  Felbel,  Co.  2 

J.  C.  McMullin,  Co.  5  Lieut.  Kenneth  Mclntosh,  Co.  4 

R.  T  Frye,  Co.  5  Capt.  Richardson,  Co.  5 

M.  B.  Phipps,  Co.  6  Pendleton  King,  Co.  6 

D.  Loring,  Jr.,  Co.  7  H.  MacKay,  Co.  7 

C.  H.  Ramsey,  Co.  8  Herbert  Clock,  Co.  9 
W.  W.  Webber,  Co.  9  E.  S.  Murphy,  Btry.  i 
S.  S.  Gordon,  Tr.  I  C.  G.  Shaw,  Btry.  2 

R.  B.  Leake,  Btry.  i  M.  N.  Kernochan,  Btry.  3 

D.  E.  Currier,  Btry.  2 


FOREWORD 

River  that  rolls  to  the  restless  deep 

From  sylvan-born  placidity, 
Stained  issue  of  the  undefiled 
By  your  own  wayward  will  exiled 

From  the  crystal  lap  of  a  land-locked  sea, 

Read  me  the  meaning  of  your  mood. 

The  waters  murmur  as  they  flow, 
"Strife  is  the  law  by  which  we  live; 
Stagnation,  our  alternative: 

This  is  the  only  truth  we  know" 

\ 
The  tides  of  mortal  toilers  meet 

To  merge  their  rhythms  in  bloody  frayf 
And,  wave  to  wave,  their  armies  call — 
Nay,  summon  us  that  we  shall  all 

Assume  the  role  we  choose  to  play. 

So,  at  the  cry,  in  loyal  breasts, 
As  smaller  self-concern  recedes, 

Still  burns  the  old  Achillean  fire, 

Still  eager  questing  souls  desire 

Not  life  but  living,  not  days  but  deeds. 


PART  I 
POEMS 


STANDING    IN    LINE 


STANDING  IN  LINE 

When  I  applied  for  Plattsburg  I  stood  for  hours 

in  line 
To  get  a  piece  of  paper  which  they  said  I  had  to 

sign; 
When  I  had  signed  I  stood  in  line  (and  my,  that 

line  was  slow!) 
And  asked  them  what  to  do  with  it;  they  said  they 

didn't  know. 

And  when  I  came  to  Plattsburg  I  had  to  stand  in 

line, 

To  get  a  Requisition,  from  five  o'clock  till  nine; 
I  stood  in  line  till  night  for  the  Captain  to  endorse 

it; 
But  the  Q.  M.  had  one  leggin'  left;  I  used  it  ror 

a  corset. 

We  stand  in  line  for  hours  to  get  an  issue  for  the 

squad; 
We  stand  in  line  for  hours  ajid  hours  to  use  the 

cleaning-rod ; 

19 


STANDING    IN    LINE 


And  hours  and  hours  and  hours  and  hours  to  sign 

the  roll  for  pay; 
And  walk  for  miles  in  double  files  on  Inoculation 

day. 

Oh,  Heaven  is  a  happy  place,  its  streets  are  pass- 
ing fair, 

And  when  they  start  to  call  the  roll  up  yonder  I'll 
be  there; 

But  when  they  start  to  call  that  roll  I  certainly  will 
resign 

If  some  Reserve  Archangel  tries  to  make  me  stand 
in  line. 


20 


THE    FIRST   TIME 


THE  FIRST  TIME 

My  legs  are  moving  to  and  fro 

I  feel  like  a  balloon; 
How  my  head  swims,  first  time  I  go 

To  boss  the  damn  platoon. 

My  throat  and  mouth  are  full  of  paste 

There's  nothing  in  my  hat; 
My  belt  is  winding  round  my  waist 

But  where's  my  stomach  at? 


21 


ONWARD    CHRISTIAN    SCIENCE 


ONWARD  CHRISTIAN  SCIENCE 

Our  Christian  Science  Battery 

Without  a  gun  or  horse, 
Is  just  a  simple  oversight, 

That  will  be  changed,  of  course. 

But  while  we're  waiting  patiently, 

And  longing  for  the  day, 

They  have  a  funny  little  game 

They  make  us  fellows  play. 

Bill  Hallstead  simulates  the  gun 

He's  sort  of  short  and  fat 
And  doesn't  look  much  like  a  gun, 

But  he's  pretty  good  at  that. 

And  they've  elected  me  a  horse, 

Off-horse  of  the  wheel  pair; 
I  tie  a  white  cloth  on  my  arm 

So  they  can  see  I'm  there. 


ONWARD    CHRISTIAN    SCIENCE 


Then  when  the  battery  is  formed 

With  each  man  in  his  place, 
They  line  the  "pieces"  in  a  row 

Just  like  a  chariot  race. 

Bill  Barnum's  "Greatest  Show  on  Earth" 

Has  not  a  thing  on  us ; 
We  tear  around  the  old  parade 

And  kick  up  clouds  of  dust. 

For  it's  gallop  all  the  morning  long, 

They  never  let  us  walk. 
Why,  it  gets  so  realistic 

That  I  whinney  when  I  talk. 

I  wouldn't  be  a  bit  surprised 

If  I  should  hear  some  day 
That  instead  of  mess  they'd  issue  us 

That  14  Ibs.  of  hay. 

And  so  I'm  looking  for  the  man 

The  one  who  said  to  me : 
"You  don't  want  to  be  a  'doughboy,' 

Go  and  join  the  battery." 


THEY    BELIEVE    IN    US    BACK    HOME 


Press  - 

MARCH; 


THEY  BELIEVE  IN  US  BACK  HOME 

"Lots  of  love  to  our  lieutenant," 

Writes  my  mother; 

And  the  letters  from  my  brother 

Contain  facetious  remarks  about  "majors"  .   . 

He  calls  me  "The  Colonel"  and  laughs.  .   .  . 

But  they  mean  it  seriously, 

Those  back  home. 

They  can't  seem  to  realize 

How  shaky  is  our  berth  up  here  .  .   . 

How  every  "Retreat"  means  a  brief  respite; 

Each  "Reveille"  the  dread 

24 


THEY    BELIEVE    IN    US    BACK    HOME 

Of  some  more  foolish  blunder  .   .  . 
Some  new  bone-play. 
And  yet  sometimes  our  timid  vanity 
Blossoms  under  the  warmth  of  their  regard; 
Our  hopes  take  strength  from  their  confidence  in 
us. 

There  came  a  blue  envelope  in  the  mail  today. 

A     square     envelope     delicately     scented     with 

myrrh.  .  .  . 
And  she  ended  with 
"Adieu,  cher  Capitaine" 

That  very  morning 

I  started  even  our  sphinx-faced  commander 

By  bawling  out:  "Right  dress— MARCH  1" 

"Adieu,  cher  Capitaine," 

She  had  written, 

And  I  can  see  the  flecks  of  soft  star  dust  in  her 

eyes 
As  she  thought  it. 

Bitterly  I  swore  at  my  luck  .  .  . 

Then 

Sent  her  that  photograph  taken  of  me 

25 


THEY   BELIEVE   IN   US   BACK    HOME 

On  July  Fourth.  .  .  . 

Of  me  astride  the  horse  of  an  officer. 

I  scrawled  a  jest  under  it. 

But  what  else  could  I  do? 


26 


ODE  TO  A   LADY   IN   WHITE   STOCKINGS 


ODE  TO  A  LADY  IN  WHITE  STOCKINGS 

Lady,  in  your  stockings  white, 
As  you  flutter  by  the  road, 
You  inspire  me  to  write 
An  ode. 

Though  upon  my  manly  back 
There  reposes  half  a  ton, 
Why  repine  against  a  pack 
Or  gun? 

Though  the  fire-tressed  orb 
Makes  mirage  upon  the  street; 
Though  the  baking  soil  absorb 
My  feet; 

Though  the  Sergeants  stamp  and  rave; 
Though  the  Captain's  eye  is  flame; 
Pray,  how  should  my  heart  behave — 
The  same? 


29 


ODE  TO  A   LADY  IN  WHITE   STOCKINGS 

I  become  a  thing  of  steel, 
Buoyant  none  the  less  as  cork; 
Radiant  from  hat  to  heel 
I  walk. 

Lady,  in  your  stockings  white, 
Don't  you  note  my  altered  step? 
Don't  you  feel,  enchanting  sprite, 
My  pep? 


AVOIRDUPOIS 


"AVOIRDUPOIS" 

I  sing  the  song  of  a  Fat  Man 
Out  on  the  skirmish  line, 
With  a  pack  chock  full  of  lead  and  bricks 
A'hanging  on  behind. 

Maybe  you  think  it's  funny 

When  you're  out  there  on  the  run, 

Beside  all  that  equipment 
To  be  pullin'  half  a  ton. 

The  Captain  has  a  heart  of  stone 

It  makes  no  odds  to  him; 
He's  there  to  teach  you  to  skirmish, 

And  you'll  skirmish  fat  or  thin. 

D'you  suppose  he  gives  a  tinker's  damn 

If  when  you're  lying  prone, 
The  pack  comes  up  behind  your  ears 

And  whacks  you  on  the  dome? 


AVOIRDUPOIS 


He  just  hollers  "fire  faster," 

Though  he  knows  you  couldn't  hit 

The  broad  side  of  a  barn  door, 
If  you  were  fifty  feet  from  it. 

He  doesn't  care  a  little  bit, 

If  you're  gasping  hard  for  breath, 

He's  there  to  teach  you  to  skirmish, 
If  you  skirmish  yourself  to  death. 

Oh,  well,  it's  true  about  fat  men 

Being  always  full  of  fun, 
Good  Lord,  they've  got  to  be, 

'Cause  they  can  neither  fight  nor  run. 


WHAT'S    YOUR    NAME? 


GO! 


GO! 

Your  lips  say  "Go  I" 

Eyes  plead  "Stay!" 
Your  voice  so  low 
Faints  away 

To  nothing,  dear — 
God  keep  me  here! 

God  end  the  war, 
And  let  us  two 
Travel  far 

On  Love's  road,  you 
And  I  in  peace, 
Never  to  cease. 

Your  lips  say  "Go  !" 

Eyes  plead  "Stay" — 
Ah,  how  I  know 

What  price  you  pay. 


35 


THE    PLATTSBURG   CODE 


By  Lake  Champlain,  where  Bourbon  tossed 

The  dice  of  fortune  and  romance, 
Where  red-coats  won  and  red-coats  lost, 

We  soldiers  train  to  fight  in  France. 

Though  with  no  pomp  and  elegance 
Of  gold-laced  beaux,  we  have  their  same 

Old  code  of  pluck  and  nonchalance — 
"God  give  us  guts  to  play  the  game." 


May  winds  that  sing  like  troubadours 

Of  musket,  sword  and  daring  deed, 
And  ideals  won  in  early  wars, 

Inspire  each  warrior  to  succeed; 

To  fight  that  nations  may  be  freed, 
And  through  all  hardships  make  his  aim 

The  punch  of  old-time  heroes'  creed — 
God  give  us  guts  to  play  the  game. 

36 


THE    PLATTSBURG   CODE 


And  if  to-morrow — who  can  tell? — 

We  hike  along  a  hot  white  French 
Highway,  exposed  to  shrapnel  shell, 

Or  occupy  a  first-line  trench, 

'Midst  poisoned  gas   and  dead  men's   stench, 
And  hand  grenades  that  burst  and  maim ; 

May  not  all  hell  our  spirit  quench — 
God  give  us  guts  to  play  the  game. 


If  through  entangled  wires  and  mud, 
Charging  the  Boche,  we  madly  run, 

With  comrades  dropping,  dyed  with  blood, 
And  sickening  sights  and  sounds  that  stun, 
And  in  death's  duel  meet  the  Hun 

'Midst  shell  holes,  smoke,  and  battle  flame, 
Steel  clashing  steel  and  gun  to  gun — 

God  give  us  guts  to  play  the  game. 


37 


432055 


A    CONFERENCE 


A  CONFERENCE 

I  was  sleeping  in  the  barracks, 

A 'week  or  so  ago. 
And  in  the  midst  of  pleasant  dreams 

I  heard  the  whistle  blow. 

Lord,  how  I  hate  those  whistles ! 

Well,  it  was  time  to  "rouse," 
So  we  marched  down  'mongst  the  thistles 

Beside  the  old  ice  house. 

I  looked  around  in  misery, 

At  last  I  took  a  seat, 
With  nothing  to  lean  up  against 

And  no  place  for  my  feet. 

As  I  sat  there  in  the  drizzle 
Of  a  good  old  Plattsburg  rain, 


A    CONFERENCE 


I  wondered  if  I'd  fizzle 
The  lesson  once  again. 

The  captain,  who,  like  Nero 
Observing  Rome  in  flames, 

Was  seated  on  a  packing-box 
Perusing  all  the  names. 

"Mr.  Whitney,  won't  you  tell  us 
Of  patrols  both  front  and  rear? 

Speak  up,  Mr.  Whitney, 

So  the  men  in  back  can  hear." 

"And  please  now,  Mr.  Warnock, 

Just  tell  us  if  you  will 
What  you'd  do  with  this  problem 

If  you  were  Sergeant  Hill?" 

"No !  I'll  ask  you  if  I  want  you ; 

Never  mind  the  hands. 
Warnock,  you  are  Sergeant  Hill, 

Just  call  out  your  commands." 

"Whitney!  Warnock!  Gee,  what  luck!" 

I  chortled  in  my  glee. 
My  name  is  Brown,  t'was  very  plain 

He'd  never  get  to  me. 


39 


A    CONFERENCE 


So  I  listened  to  the  questions 
And  the  answers  one  by  one, 

And  wondered  if  that  3rd  degree 
Was  ever  to  be  done. 

I  thought  of  cups  with  handles  on, 
Of  napkins  and  clean  hands; 

I  thought  of  all  the  pretty  girls 
That  live  in  Christian  lands. 

I  thought  of  cakes,  and  pies,  and  things, 

I  thought  of  home  in  pain, 
And  wondered  if  I'd  ever  sleep 

Till  9  o'clock  again. 

I  wished  I  had  some  lager  beer 

Or  a  nice  silver  fizz; 
When,  "Mr.  Brown,  you  tell  us 

What  a  special  order  is." 

I  rose,  saluted,  brushed  my  pants 

Then  mutely  gazed  around. 
I  stood  transfixed;  the  Captain  said 

"Sit  down,  Mr.  Brown!" 


40 


SUNDAY    IN    BARRACKS 


SUNDAY  IN  BARRACKS 

Little  silences 
Sit  in  the  corners 
Munching  their  finger  tips. 
I  lie  stretched  flat  upon  my  bunk.   .  .  . 
I  count  the  cracks  in  the  pine-boards  above  me. 
I  am  alone. 

These  others  who  fill  the  air  with  talk 
About  right  and  wrong  .   .   .  life  and  death  .   .  . 
With  heavy-nailed  footsteps 
And  sometimes  heavier  profanity  '.   .  . 
What  becomes  of  them  on  Sunday? 
Dinners  .  .   .  the  beauty  of  women  .   .   . 
Pretty  talk. 

Camaraderie  beside  the  lake  .   .   .  fellow  for  fel- 
low, 

What  does  it  matter? 

My  little  silences  slide  along  the  floor  .  .  . 
Clamber  up  my  bunk 
To  grin  at  me  in  my  loneliness. 


SUNDAY    IN    BARRACKS 


Then  I  think  of  the  millions 

Who  have  none  for  whom  to  be  lonely, 

French,  English,  German,  Russ 

What  does  it  matter  the  language? 
We  are  all  one, 
Levelled  in  solitude. 

And  I  laugh  at  the  silences, 

And  laugh  to  see  them  scurrying  back  to  their 

corners, 
Gibbering. 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MONTMORENCY  GRAY 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MONTMORENCY 
GRAY 


Since  we  came  to  Plattsburg  Training  Camp 

Upon  the  I2th  of  May, 

A  lot  of  clever  candidates 

Have  fallen  by  the  way; 

But  the  strangest  fall  among  them  all 

Was  Montmorency  Gray. 


II 


Monty  was  a  clever  lad, 

As  bright  as  bright  could  be ; 

He  came  up  days  ahead  of  time — 

Ahead  of  you  and  me — 

And  got  in  strong  right  from  the  start. 

O  a  clever  lad  was  he ! 


43 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MONTMORENCY  GRAY 
III 

For  Monty  was  an  Officer 

Of  Uncle  Sam's  Reserve; 

His  uniform  was  spic  and  span 

In  every  line  and  curve; 

And  what  he  lacked  in  other  things, 

He  made  up  for  in  nerve. 

IV 

He  learned  the  I.D.R.  by  heart 

Before  the  i  st  of  June ; " 

He  used  to  study  late  at  night, 

And  in  the  morning  soon; 

No  wonder  that  the  Captain  let  him 

Lead  the  ist  Platoon. 


He  asked  the  cutest  questions 
In  the  study  hall  at  night; 
He  knew  the  difference  between 
A  Cut  and  Fill  at  sight. 
And  when  it  said:  "What  do  you  do?" 
He  always  did  just  right. 
44 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MONTMORENCY  GRAY 
VI 

He  memorized  the  map  from 

Chestnut  Hill  to  Steven's  Run; 

He  didn't  have  to  draw  a  scale, 

As  we  have  always  done ; 

He  knew  that  you  could  see  Five-Six — 

Ty-Six  from  Six-O-One. 

VII 

And  then  this  tragic  episode 

Of  which  I  write  occurred. 

It  happened  sometime  in  the  night 

Of  June  the  23rd 

That  Montmorency  stole  away, 

And  left  no  sign  or  word. 

VIII 

We  found  at  dawn  that  he  had  gone 

And  left  us  in  the  lurch. 

The  Colonel  sent  detachments  out 

For  miles  around  to  search; 

A  strong  patrol  to  every  knoll, 

To  every  house,  and  church. 

45 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MONTMORENCY  GRAY 

IX 

They  found  no  trace  in  any  place; 
It  caused  a  lot  of  talk; 
They  wired  down  to  every  town 
From  Plattsburg  to  New  York. 
As  it  was  plain  he  took  no  train 
He  must  have  had  to  walk. 


X 


'Twas  well  into  the  Fall  before 
The  mystery  was  cleared. 
(They'd  never  heard  a  single  word 
Since  Monty  disappeared), 
When  the  Colonel  had  a  caller, 
An  old  farmer,  with  a  beard. 

XI 

He  said  his  name  was  Topper, 
And  he  lived  in  Table  Rock, 
And  what  he  told  the  Colonel 
Gave  the  Old  Man  quite  a  shock; 
They  were  closeted  together 
Until  after  ten  o'clock. 
46 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MONTMORENCY  GRAY 
XII 

From  Gettysburg  to  Plattsburg 

Mr.  Topper  came  to  say 

How  he'd  found  a  man  in  uniform 

Down  near  his  home  one  day, 

Who,  judging  from  his  clothing,  must 

Have  walked  a  long,  long  way. 

XIII 

He  told  the  sad  and  tragic  tale 

Of  how  he  came  to  find, 

While  on  his  way  to  Hershey's  Mill 

With  a  load  of  corn  to  grind, 

The  young  man  wandering  on  a  hill, 

And  wandering  in  his  mind. 

XIV 

He  took  him  to  his  farmhouse,  where 
For  seven  weeks  he  lay 
And  talked  and  muttered  to  himself 
In  a  most  peculiar  way. 
He  gave  his  name  before  he  died 
As  Montmorency  Gray. 
47 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MONTMORENCY  GRAY 
XV 

He  seemed  more  sick  than  lunatic, 

Mr.  Topper  had  to  grant; 

As  meek  and  mild  as  a  little  child, 

He  did  not  rave  or  rant, 

He  only  cried,  until  he  died: 

"You  ought  to,  but  you  can't!" 


48 


GIRLS 


GIRLS 

They  wander  everywhere  about 
The  dears  in  pink,  the  dreams  in  yellow, 
With  fetching  smile,  with  pretty  pout, 
And  always  with  another  fellow. 

They  spend  their  mornings  baking  cakes, 
Their  afternoons  in  making  cookies; 
And,  oh !  the  soul  within  me  aches — 
Their  sweets  are  all  for  other  rookies. 

Often,  when  'neath  their  eyes  we  pass, 
I  hear  some  maiden  sigh  divinely  ? 
And  murmur  to  another  lass, 
"Dear,  isn't  Jackie  marching  finely?" 

Ah,  girls,  a  sorry  lot  is  his — 
Dull  are  his  days,  his  nights  are  dreary — 
Who  knows  no  maiden  where  he  is, 
Who  has  no  dame  to  call  him  "Dearie." 


A    LAMENT 


A  LAMENT 
(AFTER  C.  LAMB) 

All,  all  are  gone,  the  old  familiar  glasses 
That  used  to  range  along  the  fragrant  bar; 
Gone,  all  are  gone,  and  in  their  places 
Milk,  Pop  and  Dietade  its  beauty  mar. 
The  Big  Four  now  has  turned  to  Prohibition, 
Anhauser  Busch  no  longer  sells  at  par, 
Bar-maids  have  joined  the  Army  of  Salvation, 
The  voice  of  Bryan  governs  from  afar; 
All,  all  are  gone,  the  old  familiar  glasses, 
Where  once  they  glistened  on  the  fragrant  bar. 


THE    MANUAL 


THE  MANUAL 

Did  you  ever  run  into  the  butt  of  your  gun, 
Or  dig  the  front  sight  with  your  nose? 
Did  your  stomach  turn  over  and  stand  up  on  end, 
When  you  dropped  the  damn  thing  on  your  toes? 

When  coming  to  Port  did  the  rifle  fall  short, 
And  the  swivel  ram  into  your  fist? 
When  the  rest  did  present  did  you  so  intent 
Find  a  count  that  the  others  had  missed? 

And  when  at  "Inspection"  you  clutched  to  per- 
fection, 

Then  shot  up  the  piece  with  a  thrust, 
Was  there  some  dirty  pup  who  pushed  your  cut- 
off up 
So  your  bolt  dug  a  cave  in  the  dust? 

Then   when   on   the   range  your   windage   you'd 

change 
For  the  flag  that  the  Anarchists  wave, 


53 


THE    MANUAL 


And  the  old  cocking  piece  smeared  your  nose  with 

red  "grease," 
Did  you  learn  what  it  meant  to  be  brave? 

How  your  old  back  did  ache  when  you  got  the 
bad  breaks 

With  the  rifle  that  now  has  such  charms, 

And  I'll  make  a  good  bet  that  you'll  never  for- 
get 

That  exhausting  old  Manual  of  Arms. 


54 


THOSE       PATRIOTIC       SONGS 


THOSE  "PATRIOTIC"  SONGS 

I 

To  put  the  pay  in  patriot 

Is  the  order  of  the  day. 

And  some  delight  to  sing  of  fight 

For  royalties  that  pay. 

The  louder  that  the  eagle  screams 

The  more  the  dollars  shout, 

And,  if  you  please,  atrocities 

Like  this  are  handed  out: — 

(Chorus) 

I  love  you,  dear  America, 

I  love  the  starry  flag, 

We're  proud  to  fight  for  you-oo-oo; 

We  never  boast  or  brag. 

We  always  will  remember  you, 

We  always  will  be  true ; 

Maryland,  my  Maryland!  hurrah,  boys,  hurrah! 

As  we  go  marching  on  to  victory. 

55 


THOSE  "PATRIOTIC"  SONGS 


II 


That  some  are  actuated 

By  intentions  of  the  best, 

Is  surely  clear,  and  so  we  fear 

To  class  them  with  the  rest. 

And  yet  conceive  some  long-haired  chap, 

Or  sentimental  miss, 

Who  takes  the  time  to  fit  a  rhyme 

To  music,  say,  like  this : — 

(Chorus) 

I  love  you,  yes,  I  love  you, 
And  when  I'm  across  the  sea, 
I'll  take  your  picture  to  the  front, 
'Twill  always  be  with  me. 
I  shall  not  mind  the  bullets 
When  I  am  far  away, 
You'll  be  a  soldier's  sweetheart, 
My  girl  in  U.  S.  A. 


THOSE       PATRIOTIC       SONGS 


III 

To  make  the  war  more  horrible 

Some  chap  will  surely  try 

To  set  to  rag  the  starry  flag, 

And  dance  the  battle  cry. 

We  only  hope  we  may  be  spared; 

It  did  not  fail  to  come, 

A  dashing  trot  of  shell  and  shot, 

Of  bugle  call  and  drum. 

(Chorus) 

That  khaki  glide  !  O  !  that  army  slide, 

It  seems  to  say: 

"March  away,  march  away!" 

I  feel  so  queer  each  time  I  hear 

The  music  of  that  military  band. 

It's  just  too  grand! 

Fills  me  full  of  joy  and  pride, 

See  them  marching  side  by  side, 

That's  just  the  good  old  khaki  glide ! 


57 


SATURDAY    P.    M. 


SATURDAY  P.M. 


When  you've  had  a  shave  and  a  shower, 

And  have  picked  up  all  the  news; 

When  you've  donned  your  Sunday  Stetson 

And  your  shiny  pair  of  shoes; 

When  your  work  for  the  week  is  over, 

You  think  that  you  are  through. 

You're  wrong,  my  son,  you're  wrong,  my  son 

There's  something  more  for  you. 

It's  the  needle,  the  needle, 
The  prophylactic  needle. 
There's  a  hungry  surgeon  waiting 
And  he's  waiting  just  for  you. 


SATURDAY    P.    M. 


II 


Tho'  you  lasted  through  the  horrors 
Of  a  test  in  skirmish  drill, 
And  proved  yourself  a  captain 
When  you  bellowed  "Fire  at  will !" 
You  are  very  much  mistaken 
If  you  think  you've  finished  then; 
There  is  something  after  luncheon 
For  all  the  Plattsburg  men. 

It's  the  needle,  the  needle,  etc. 
Ill 

Tho'  you  stood  a  strict  inspection 

And  your  dirty  gun  got  by; 

Tho'  you'd  grease  spots  on  your  breeches, 

And  the  Captain  winked  his  eye; 

Tho'  you  ate  your  fill  at  dinner, 

And  enjoyed  a  Lucky  Strike; 

There  is  something  at  one-thirty 

That  I  know  you  will  not  like. 

It's  the  needle,  the  needle,  etc. 
59 


SATURDAY    P.    M. 


IV 

Tho'  you  proved  yourself  a  hero 
After  three  hours  in  the  line, 
And  when  the  doctor  jabbed  you 
Just  said,  "Let's  have  a  shine!" 
And  smoked  a  large-sized  stogie 
And  thought  that  it  was  fun, 
My  noble-hearted  candidate, 
You'd  only  half  begun. 

It's  the  needle,  the  needle,  etc. 


When  you  woke  up  at  twelve-thirty 
In  a  state  of  some  alarm, 
To  feel  a  tortured  muscle 
In  the  region  of  your  arm ; 
When  you  heard  the  groaning  barracks, 
You  wiped  your  brow  and  said: 
"Two  million  more  next  week-end, 
And  I  guess  that  I'll  be  dead." 


60 


SATURDAY    P.    M. 


The  needle,  the  needle, 
The  prophylactic  needle. 
You  softly  damn  the  surgeon, 
And  his   needle  tinged  with   red. 


61 


HOW  THINGS   HAVE   CHANGED 


HOW  THINGS  HAVE  CHANGED 

When  first  I  landed  in  this  camp 
I  used  to  write  most  every  day 
To  all  my  friends  I  left  behind, 
And  ask  them 'what  they  had  to  say 
About  the  old  town  and  the  girls, 
Or  what  they  thought  about  the  war; 
And  in  return  the  daily  mail 
It  brought  me  letters  by  the  score. 

But  now  my  friends  write  me  and  ask 
What  keeps  me  from  replying, 
And  when  I  answer,  "It's  the  work," 
Why,  they  just  think  I'm  lying. 
So  now  the  letters  I  receive 
Are  few  and  very  far  between; 
They're  mostly  from  my  family 
And  never  any  from  a  queen. 


62 


ARMA    FEMINAMQUE 


ARMA  FEMINAMQUE 

No  man  would  doubt  a  woman's  nerve, 
We  know  you're  brave  enough ; 
You  put  a  man  to  shame  at  times, 
You're  tender — and  you're  tough. 
And  yet  I  feel,  with  all  your  grit 
And  talk  of  cave-men  stuff, 

That  you're  sorter  out  of  place 
When  I'm  twistin'  up  my  face, 

A-thrustin'  and  a-jabbin'  with  my  gun-knife. 

There's  some  things  in  this  queer  old  world 
That's  awkward  things  to  see, 
They  can't  be  tied  with  ribbon 
And  they  can't  be  served  with  tea. 
They're  not  the  least  bit  sociable 

63 


ARMA    FEMINAMQUE 


And  women — as  for  me, 
I  wish  you'd  stay  away, 
While  I'm  training  for  the  day 
That  I'm  goin'  to  get  in  action  with  a  gun-knife. 

This  ain't  no  country  club  affair 
Of  smiles  and  clever  skill; 
There  ain't  no  silver  cups  around 
When  doughboys  train  to  kill. 
It's  you  or  me — and  do  it  quick, 
A  simple  murder  drill. 

So  I  want  no  women  'round, 

When  I'm  tearin'  up  the  ground, 

A  shadow-pointin'  Boches  with  my  gun-knife. 


OUT    O     LUCK 


OUT  O'  LUCK 

If,  in  spite  of  hopes  and  promises,  your  pay 

day  doesn't  come, 
If  the  sergeant  antedates  the  call,  or  Friday's  fish 

is  bum, 
Or  the  waiter  empties  soup  on  you — don't  let 

'em  see  you  glum. 
You're  out  o'  luck,  that's  all.    You're  out  o'  luck. 

If  you  must  deploy  your  skirmish  line  with  noth- 
ing in  your  dome, 
Or  send  supporting  picket-lines  to  countermarch 

the  Somme, 
The  chances  are  you've  guessed  it  wrong  and 

"may  as  well  go  home." 
You're  out  o'  luck,  that's  all.     You're  out  o'  luck. 

If  you  drop  between  the  battle-lines  and  no  one 

finds  the  place, 

Or  jump  into  a  pit  and  drive  a  bay'nit  through 
your  face, 


OUT   O'    LUCK 

Or  try  to  stop  a  ten-inch  shell  and  leave  an 

empty  space. 
You're  out  o'  luck,  that's  all.    You're  out  o'  luck. 


66 


s.o.s. 


Ill 


SHERMAN    WAS    RIGHT 


SHERMAN  WAS  RIGHT 

You  may  talk  about  your  marching 

And  your  stiff,  close-order  drill; 

You  may  cuss  out  recitations, 

And  of  skirmish  have  your  fill; 

The  difficult  manoeuvers 

Which  you  do  most  every  day 

May    get    your    goat    like    everything, 

And  spoil  your  Plattsburg  stay. 

But  for  me  it's  far,  far  harder 

Makes  me  feel  more  like  a  prune, 

To  march  at  strict  attention 

Past  the  Hostess  House  at  noon. 


69 


TROOPSHIP    CHANTY 


TROOPSHIP  CHANTY 

The  sea  is  green  as  green-pea  soup 
And  half-way  down  the  green-o, 
A  U-boat's  lying  snug  and  tight 
All  bellied  out  with  dynamite, 
And  twenty  guns  between-o  ! 
And  twenty  guns  between-o ! 

So  scrape  yer  hatchways  clear  of  brine, 

And  bawl  yer  jolly  song-o. 

For  if  she  "blows,"  my  lads,  why,  then 

We'll  blow  her  back  to  Hell  again, 

With  compliments  along-o ! 

With  compliments  along-o ! 


70 


THOSE    RUMORS 


THOSE  RUMORS 

He  sauntered  in 

With  a  knowing  grin, 
The  news  he'd  been  to  hear; 

We  knew  right  well 

He'd  come  to  tell 
The  latest  from  the  rear. 

aA  hundred  went,"  he  said,  "to-day, 

"Five  hundred  more  must  go  they  say; 

"Looks  bad,  Bill,  guess  you're  on  your  way; 

"Darn  few  of  us  can  hope  to  stay. 

"I  got  this  straight  from  a  friend  of  mine, 

"A  friend  of  his  in  Company  9, 

"Heard  from  a  friend  in  Company  10, 

"That  Company  5  lost  fifty  men." 
With  this  you'd  think 
Our  hopes  would  sink, 
It  ought  to  change  our  humor. 

We  knew  the  source, 

So  smiled  of  course, 
It  was  an  L.  T.  rumor. 


WAR'S  HORRORS 


WAR'S  HORRORS 

I  hate  to  talk  of  a  Regular 

Without  the  proper  respect; 
But  given  a  chance  to  criticize, 

There's  a  bunch  that  I'd  select. 
And  they  are  those  musical  miscreants, 

Those  malefactors  of  noise, 
Those  rookie  Second  Cavalrymen, 

The  amateur  bugle  boys. 

They  blow  retreat, 

And  from  head  to  feet 
Coagulate  your  spine; 

Or  at  company  drill 
They  send  a  chill 

A-shivering  down  the  line. 
Just  try  to  salute 

To  their  twittering  toot, 
Their  yodeling,  rasping  groan, 

Their  blithering  bleat, 


72 


WAR  S   HORRORS 


And  you'll  swear  that  they  beat 
The  Hindu  quarter-tone, 

By  Gad! 
The  Hindu  quarter-tone. 


73 


THE    CALL 


THE  CALL 

Spring  to  arms,  ye  sons  of  freedom, 

Lift  your  country's  ensign  high; 
Join  her  undefeated  Army, 

Succor  France,  her  old  ally. 
Stand  for  freedom,  truth  and  justice, 

Crush  the  Prussian  tyrant's  power; 
Emulate  your  worthy  forebears 

In  their  Homeland's  crucial  hour. 
Britain,  mother  of  your  nation; 

France,  her  hope  in  ages  past; 
Belgium,  home  of  peaceful  people, 

Seared  by  foul  oppression's  blast; 
Russia,  newly  born  to  freedom; 

Seeking  honor,  God  and  right, 
Call  on  you  to  aid  in  crushing, 

Prussianism's  cursed  blight. 
Are  ye  men?    Then  meet  the  challenge 

As  your  fathers  did  of  old; 
Help  the  cause  of  all  the  races, 

With  your  muscle,  brain,  and  gold. 


74 


On  tne  ririnf) 

<(AMlS 
Ai  5  Cfcloc 


BEANS 


BEANS 

Consider  then  the  Army  bean 

So  various  and  quaint. 
Sometimes  we  find  they're  just  plain  beans, 

And  then  again  they  ain't. 
They're  funny  shades  of  yellow, 

Brown,  green,  and  red,  and  white; 
While  striped  and  spotted,  polka  dotted 

Beans  our  taste  delight. 
But  nix  on  beans  Manchurian, 

And  beans  of  age  Silurian, 
Which  same  could  stand  a  buryin', 

When  they  come  on — Good  Night ! 


77 


FORWARD    "?' 


FORWARD  "?" 

On  the  parade, 

Soft  and  low, 
Rookie  hiccoughed, 

"Forward,  Ho!" 

Another  youngster 

Feeling  smart, 
Tried  to  shout, 

"Forward,  Hart!'1 

One  requested, 
"Forward,  How!" 

From  somewhere  else, 
There  came  a  "Yow!" 


Perhaps  a  mile  or  so  away 

We  heard  not  "Harp  !"  nor  "Harch  !" 
But  stalwart  Major  Koehler's  voice 

Thunder,  "Forward,  March!" 


CHANT   OF   A   DERELICT 


CHANT  OF  A  DERELICT 

Sad  is  my  song,  mates,  for  I've  got  the  axe, 

I've  got  to  go,  I've  got  to  go  ; 
Farewell  to  Plattsburg  and  life  in  the  shacks, 

Home  I  must  go,  I  must  go. 
Told  not  to  let  such  a  small  matter  grieve  me, 

Sent  to  the  parents  who  hate  to  receive  me, 
Hearing  my  story,  they'll  never  believe  me, 

I've  got  to  go,  got  to  go. 

No  more  to  sleep  in  a  two-story  bunk, 

Back  I  must  go,  I  must  go ; 
No  more  to  sag  'neath  a  pack  full  of  junk, 

Home  I  must  go,  I  must  go. 
Leaving  the  books  I  could  never  have  learned, 

Buying  a  straw  hat — the  old  one  was  burned- 
Even  the  wrist  watch  must  now  be  interned, 

Back  I  must  go,  I  must  go. 

Here  is  the  moral  of  this  plaintive  cough, 
Sung  as  I  go,  moaned  as  I  go; 


79 


CHANT   OF   A    DERELICT 


Here  is  the  reason  for  my  sounding  off, 

Now  as  I  go,  as  I  go : 
Comrades  in  arms,  oh!  be  prompt  at  formations, 

Neat  in  your  dress,  and  observe  regulations, 
Else,  you,  like  me,  will  rejoin  your  relations, 

Home  you  must  go,  you  must  go. 


80 


PREOCCUPATION 


PREOCCUPATION 

The  captain  stops  and  yells  to  me, 

"Wake  up  there,  rear  rank  number  three  !" 
And  then,  perchance,  he  makes  some  mention 

Of  how  I  do  not  pay  attention. 
But  is  it  my  fault?    No,  it's  you, 

With  your  persistent  eyes" of  blue, 
That  halt  the  flow  of  reason's  stream 

And  make  me  dream  and  dream  and  dream, 
Until  the  captain  comes  and — well, 

To  put  it  plain — he  gives  me  Hell. 


INOCULATION    DAY 


INOCULATION  DAY 

My  blood  the  surgeons  fortify 

With  antiseptic  serum; 
The  dread  bacilli  I  defy, 

What  cause  have  I  to  fear  'em? 

We  form  outside  the  pest-house  door 

At  one  o'clock  precisely, 
But  if  we  get  our  dose  at  four 

We  think  we're  doing  nicely. 

And  in  our  arm  the  surgeon  stabs 

A  hypodermic  squirter, 
E'en  as  the  hungry  hobo  jabs 

His  fork  in  a  frankfurter. 

I'm  full  of  dope  for  smallpox  germs, 
For  typhus  and  such  evils, 

For  broken  heart  and  army  worms, 
For  chestnut  blight  and  weevils. 


84 


INOCULATION   DAY 


I'm  doped  against  the  bayonet 
Wielded  by  German  demons; 

But  no  one  seems  to  think  I'll  get 
Dear  old  delirium  tremens. 


DON'T  WEAKEN 


DON'T  WEAKEN 

When  you  feel  on  the  bum  and  the  outlook  is 

glum, 

And  you're  wonderin'  what's  comin'  next; 
When  most  every  thing's  drear  and  life  loses  its 

cheer, 

And  the  Skip  and  Reverses  are  vexed; 
If  this  Plattsburgish  heat  knocks  you  clean  off  your 

feet, 

Or  your  bunkies  they  ain't  even  speakin' ; 
Keep  your  shirt  on  your  back,  don't  knock  over 

the  stack, 
It's  a  great  life,  if  you  don't  weaken. 

When  they  launder  your  sock  till  it  ain't  fit  to 

hock, 

When  they  shrink  up  your  shirt  like  a  rag; 
If  you  blister  your  toes  and  then  sunburn  your 

nose 

And  then  can't  even  go  on  a  jag; 
Why,  you're  sure  out  of  luck,  but  just  pass  the 

old  buck, 

86 


DON  T   WEAKEN 


Keep  a  stiff  upper  lip  like  a  deacon; 

Though  you  shoot  ten  straight  blanks  do  not  kick 

with  the  cranks, 
Summon  a  grin  and  don't  weaken. 

If  you're  late  for  retreat  and  must  police  the 

street, 

If  at  reveille  you're  still  in  your  bed; 
If  your  girl  sends  you  flags  which  some  other  cuss 

bags, 

Or  they  clip  all  the  hair  off  your  head; 
If  the  mess  comes  out  burned, 
So  your  stomach  gets  turned, 
Or  the  "upper  man"  keeps  you  from  sleepin'; 
Don't  you  growl,  that  won't  help, 
For  they'll  dub  you  a  whelp; 
Can  the  grouch — but  don't  weaken. 


THE    THREE 


THE  THREE 

Three  dead  men  rose  on  nimble  toes 
Above  the  frozen  clay; 
And  as  they  sped,  each  of  the  Dead 
Told  how  he  died  that  day. 

Said  one,  "I  sent  the  Regiment 
To  safety  as  I  fell." 
The  Second  cried,  "Before  I  died 
I  hurled  the  foe  to  Hell." 

As  for  the  Third,  he  spoke  no  word 
But  hastened  on  his  way, 
Until  at  last  a  whisper  passed: 
"How  did  you  die  today?" 

"There  was  a  maid  slept  unafraid 
Within  a  hut,"  he  said. 
"I  searched  the  place  and  for  a  space 
I  thought  that  all  had  fled. 


88 


THE    THREE 


"But  her  breast  glowed  white  in  the 

morning  light 

As  the  early  dawn  grew  red ; 
Tiptoe  I  came  in  lust  and  shame 
And  stood  beside  her  bed. 

"And  there  I  fought  an  evil  thought 
And  won — and  turned  to  go ; 
Then  as  I  went  into  my  tent 
A  bullet  struck  me  low." 

The  others  heard  and  spoke  no  word 

(For  dead  men  understand), 

But  'round  they  turned  and  their  deep 

eyes  burned 
As  they  gripped  his  leaden  hand. 


89 


TO   THE    LITTLE    BLACK    DOG 


TO  THE  LITTLE  BLACK  DOG 

•» 
We  see  you  in  the  morning 

When  Reveille  implores; 

We  meet  you  in  the  evening 

At  end  of  daily  chores. 

On  march,  fatigue,  or  drilling 

Our  friend  we  find  you  still, 

With  kindly,  pleasant  bearing 

And  independent  will. 

You're  small,  you're  thin,  you're  homely, 

You're  battered,  scratched,  and  lame; 

But  in  our  tasks  before  us 

Pray  God  we  be  as  game ! 


90 


WHEN    EAST    IS   WEST 


WHEN  EAST  IS  WEST 

See  that  man  in  khaki  clothes, 
Squirming  in  the  dust; 
Toying  with  a  sketching  board, 
Uniform  all  mussed. 
Squinting  'long  a  little  stick, 
Grunting  fit  to  bust — 

Turning  out  a  road  sketch 
For  his  Captain. 

First  he  drills  a  "starting  point.' 
Then  he  takes  a  "shot;" 
Someone's  scare-crow  gets  a  line, 
Closes  Jones's  lot. 
Paces  stiffly  down  the  road, 

91 


WHEN    EAST    IS   WEST 


Worried — tense — and  hot — 
Turning  out  a  road  sketch 
For  his  Captain. 

Now  an  "intersection  point;" 
Watch  the  compass  turn. 
Think  to  see  him  finger  it 
Bloomin'  thing  would  burn. 
Missed  an  inch  by  motor  truck; 
Eyes  it  proud  and  stern — 
Turning  out  a  road  sketch 
For  his  Captain. 

Plants  an  orchard  in  the  road; 
Leaves  a  forest  bare. 
Runs  a  railroad  through  a  house ; 
Fakes  a  village  square. 
Twenty  contours  in  a  swamp, 
Thirteen  in  the  air — 

Calls  the  thing  a  road  sketch 
For  his  Captain. 


92 


TO    MY    SWEETHEART 


TO  MY  SWEETHEART 

I  love  you  when  the  bugle 

Calls,  "Awake,  the  day's  begun!" 
I  love  you  as  we  work  and 

Sweat  and  drill  beneath  the  sun. 
I  love  you  at  retreat,  and 

When  the  sun  sinks  out  of  view; 
Sweetheart  of  mine !  quite  all  the  time, 

I — love — you. 


93 


PLAY   THE    GAME 


PLAY  THE  GAME 

When  everything  goes  wrong 

And  it's  hard  to  force  a  song, 
The  proper  stunt  we  claim, 

Is  to  grin,  and  play  the  game. 

If  things  break  worse  than  fair, 

Say  the  Frenchmen,  "C'est  la  Guerre" 

Which  to  them  is  just  the  same, 
As  to  grin,  and  play  the  game. 

If  you  find  the  mess  is  punk — 
Kidney  beans  and  other  junk — 

Try  to  eat  it  just  the  same; 

Stretch  a  grin,  and  play  the  game. 

When  for  nothing  you've  been  bawled, 
Though  you've  done  your  best  get  called, 

And  you  know  you're  not  to  blame; 
Force  a  grin,  and  play  the  game. 


94 


PLAY   THE    GAME 


When  we're  hit  by  some  big  shell, 
And  almost  catch  a  glimpse  of  hell; 

When  we  think  how  close  we  came, 
We'll  just  grin,  and  play  the  game. 

i 

While  our  work  is  being  done 
We  will  show  the  mighty  Hun, 

In  the  land  from  whence  we  came, 
How  we  grin,  and  play  the  game. 

When  the  last  long  line  is  passed, 
And  the  victory's  ours  at  last, 

Greater  far  will  be  the  fame, 

If  we've  grinned,  and  played  the  game. 


95 


THE    STADIUM,    PLATTSBURG 


THE  STADIUM,  PLATTSBURG 

I  hear  the  mighty  song  of  singing  men 
Crashing  among  the  pine-trees  through  the  night, 
And  thund'ring,  trumpet-wise,  down  every  glen, 
A  song  to  France,  whose  soul  is  bleeding  white. 

But  hark! — out  rings  a  deeper,  stronger  cry. 
A  Nation,  which  has  newly  learned  to  give, 
Is  singing  as  its  sons  go  forth  to  die, 
Because,  God  knows,  they're  going  forth — to  live ! 


O  little  Maid  of  France,  who  rests  in  Heaven, 
Crowned    with    the    Lilies    Three     (and    Lilies 

Seven), 

Send  us  the  clear-eyed  Faith  that  came  to  thee, 
Praying  beneath  the  pines,  in  Domremy. 


RUBAIYAT  OF  A   PLATTSBURG   CANDIDATE 


RUBAIYAT  OF  A  PLATTSBURG 
CANDIDATE 

Awake!   'tis   morning,    though   it   should  not 

be- 
Come,  can  the  yawns,  it's  speed  they  want  to  see — 

And  stagger  forth  upon  a  hostile  world, 
In  flannel  shirt  and  cotton  pants  O.  D. 

Before  the  phantoms  of  the  night  were  done, 
Methought  I  idled  somewhere  in  the  sun, 

Debating  whether  beauty  to  pursue, 
Or  touch  a  bell,  and  cultivate  a  bun. 

And  lovely  maids  in  garments  pale  did  seem 
To  shimmer  round  me  in  continuous  stream, 

Each  with  a  glass  of  something  in  her  hand, 
And  then  I  turned — and  lo !  it  was  a  dream ! 

And  ere  the  cock  crew  he  that  stood  before 
The  barracks,  shouted  "Half  a  minute  more! 

Belts,  bayonets,  and  pieces — on  the  jump — 
And  signal-flags  and  alidades,"  O  Lor' ! 

97 


RUBAIYAT  OF   A    PLATTSBURG    CANDIDATE 

I  sometimes  think  that  never  battles  din 
Were  so  unwelcome  as  the  words  "Fall  in!" 

Nor  any  victory  could  taste  so  sweet 
As  French  vermouth  with  ice  and  Gordon  gin. 

Yesterday's  problem  'twixt  the  Red  and  Blue 
Involved  our  journey  down  the  Road  Peru; 

The  day  before  we  took  the  Peru  Road — 
I'll  bet  a  hat  we're  there  to-morrow,  too. 

Myself  when  fresh  and  full  of  zeal  and  spunk, 
Hung  on  the  words  whence  wisdom  should  be 
drunk ; 

But  this  was  all  the  harvest  that  I  reaped — 
To  say  "as  fast  as  possible"  is  punk. 

Platoon  commanders,  captains  by  the  score, 
Each  takes  his  turn — and  then  is  seen  no  more; 

But  no  one  ever  thinks  of  him  again 
One  half  so  kindly  as  they  thought  before. 

To-day's  commander,  with  commands  profuse, 
To-morrow  to  the  rear  rank  will  reduce. 

Think,  and  you  know  not  what  he  meant  to 

say — 

He  knows  not  neither,  so— -ah,  what's  the  use? 

98 


RUBAIYAT   OF   A   PLATTSBURG   CANDIDATE 

Waste  not  your  hour  to  criticize  or  blame, 
You  would  have  done  it  worse,  or  just  the  same. 

Better  to  pack  your  troubles  with  your  kit, 
To  keep  your  shirt  on,  and  to  play  the  game. 

Some  for  the  shriek  of  shot  and  shell,  and  some 
Sigh  for  the  bottle  of  New  England  rum. 

Oh,  face  the  facts,  and  let  the  fiction  go — 
I'll  bet  "la  vie  des  tranchees"  will  be  bum. 

One  moment's  rest,  then  back  into  the  mill 
With  butt  and  point  to  lacerate  and  kill. 

I  often  wonder  what  the  Germans  teach 
One  half  so  cultured  as  our  "Bay'net  Drill." 

For  war  is  hell,  and  Plattsburg  not  a  jest, 
And  yet,  by  gravy,  we  will  do  our  best, 

Till  submarine  and  Kaiser  are  forgot, 
Or  Angel  Gabriel  hollers  out,  "At  rest!" 


99 


DREAMS 


DREAMS 

Says  Captain  Peek  to  Company  Two, 
"Let's  have  an  exam  to-day; 
"So  get  your  rifles  and  bayonet,  boys, 
"And  fall  in  right  away. 

"Line  up  whenever  you're  ready  to  go; 
"At  route  step  do  squads  right : 
"Light  up  your  pipes,  roll  up  your  sleeves, 
"We'll  try  to  make  this  light." 

With  joyful  faces  they  march  to  parade, 
Fall  out  and  rest  on  the  grass. 
"Will  someone  please  perform  right  face? 
"We'll  let  slight  errors  pass." 

Then  Captain  Peek  shuts  up  that  book 
"I  won't  give  one  black  mark. 
"Officers,  beat  it;  get  the  hook! 
"I'll  drill  you  right  till  dark. 


100 


DREAMS 

"You  seem  to  know  the  drill  all  right; 
"Don't  bother  about  those  maps; 
"Put  on  your  'civics'  as  fast  as  you  can, 
"And  don't  come  back  for  taps." 

'Twill  be  thus  perhaps  in  a  happier  land, 
When  they've  run  that  American  drive, 
Where  we  drill  in  white  all  armed  with  harps; 
But  not  while  our  Cap's  alive. 


101 


A    2ND    REGIMENT      WHO  S    WHO 


A  2nd  REGIMENT  "WHO'S  WHO" 

Major  Collins  is  careful  of 

His  regiment's  health. 

Lemonade  and  other  things, 

Taken  on  march, 

Have  been  known  to  cause 

Soldiers  to  die,  and  pie? 

Perish  the  suggestion!  'Tis 

Safe  to  bet  the  major 

Was  not  born  in  New  England. 

If  in  a  deep  wood  or  desert  vast 
One  would  never  be  lost 
With  Captain  Barnes.     He  knows 
How  to  orient  the  landscape 
By  sun  or  star. 

Lieutenant  Meyer  is  tall, 
He  holds  his  hat  on 
By  a  strap 
Under  his  chin. 
A  cyclone  'couldn't  blow  it  off. 
102 


A    2ND    REGIMENT      WHO  S    WHO 

Captain  Latrobe  came  on 

From  Texas  way, 

"Sifbofe"  his  saddle 

And  himself.    He  might  as  well 

Have  saved  the  freight  on  the  saddle, 

For  he  has  no  horse  to  ride  on. 

He  leads  his  steedless  troop 

On  charger  invisible. 

Arnold,  Major  now,  fares  better. 

His  horse  is  real 

And  has  white  feet. 

Do  not  talk  to  his 

Command  while  it  is  marching, 

Nor  count  for  the  men,  or 

The  winning  smile  will 

Turn  injto  a  volcano, 

And  you  will  be  reduced  to 

A  shapeless  mass.     Beware! 

Carr's  horse  is  black, 
And  a  beauty,  too, 
But  neighs  out  loud;  hence 
Never  should  be  used  to  patrol. 
The  enemy  would  listen,  and 
Know  you  were  near. 
103 


A    2ND    REGIMENT    "WHO'S   WHO" 

The  straightest  man 
On  horseback  is, 
Doubtless,  Wainwright; 
And  he  doesn't  lean  backward  to  do  it, 
either. 

Matthews  has  a  deep  voice ; 

No  ear  trumpet  is  needed  to  hear  his 

commands. 

He  believes  in  exercise. 
His  men  should  be  able  to 
Throw  Samson  or  Sandow, 
If  they  are  not  dead 
By  August  Eleventh. 

Waldron  knows  how  to  patrol — 

At  least  he  wrote  a  book 

For  thirty  cents. 

He  next  should  write  a  book  on  how 

To  spot  a  periscope  when  we  cross  the 

sea. 

If  we  don't  know  that,  we'll  never 
Spot  anything  else 
But  bubbles  on  the  ocean's  face. 


104 


A    2ND   REGIMENT      WHO  S   WHO 

Capt.  Goodwyn  just  came  up 
From  Panama,  and  brought 
Chivalry  with  him. 
It's  as  hot  here  as  there, 
But  he  is  showing  us  how 
To  make  it  hotter 
For  certain  people 
To  the  eastward. 

There  is  a  fat  Q.M., 

Whose  name  is 

Unknown,  but  not  his  form. 

Once  seen 

Never  forgotten; 

He  must  have 

The  keys  to  the  ice-box. 


105 


EUREKA 


EUREKA 

It  may  be  from  hot  Tallahassee, 
It  may  be  from  cold  northern  Nome, 

But  there's  nothing  that  can  be  compared  with 
That  BIG  little  letter  from  home. 


106 


FOURTH    COMPANY,    N.    E.    SONG 


FOURTH  COMPANY,  N.E.  SONG 

'Way  up  in  Plattsburg,  right  near  the  northern 

border, 

They  sent  us  off  in  May, 
There  for  three  months  to  stay, 
So  we  could  all  become  lieutenants. 
Then  when  they  put  us  all  in  comp'nies 
We  made  New  England  Four. 
It's  the  finest  little  company 

That  ever  did  Squads  Right  and  ran  into  a  tree. 
New  England,  you've  got  to  hand  it  to  us — 
Good  old  Company  Four ! 

'Way  up  in  Plattsburg — that's  where  they  make  us 

soldiers — 

They  drill  us  every  day. 
Damn  little  time  for  play, 
'Cause  when  we  do  not  drill  we  study. 
New  England  number  four's  our  comp'ny, 
We're  always  full  of  pep. 
Now  if  you  want  some  men  for  good,  hard  work 


107 


FOURTH    COMPANY,    N.    E.    SONG 

You'll  always  find  this  company  will  never  shirk. 
New  England,  you've  got  to  hand  it  to  us — 
Good  old  Company  Four  I 


108 


PART  II 
SONGS  AND  PARODIES 


LONG,    LONG   TRAIL 


LONG,  LONG  TRAIL 

(Air:  There's  a  Long  Trail) 

There's  a  long,  long  trail  before  us, 
Into  No-Man's  land  in  France, 

Where  the  shrapnel  shells  are  bursting, 
And  we  must  advance. 

There'll  be  lots  of  drill  and  hiking, 
Before  our  dreams  all  come  true, 

But  some  day  we'll  show  the  Germans, 
How  the  Yankees  come  through. 


in 


WILLIE  S    PA 


WILLIE'S  PA 

(Air:  Solomon  Levi) 

I 

O,  Willie  Jones's  fond  mamma  brought  him  to 

Plattsburg  town, 
To  see  his  father  at  the  Camp  go  marching  up 

and  down; 
And  Willie  grew  excited  as  the  band  began  to 

play, 
And  when  he  saw  his  papa  march,  the  people 

heard  him  say: 

(Chorus) 

"O,  look  at  him,  Ma-ma,  ain't  he  simply  grand? 
See  the  way  he  holds  his  gun  and  swings  his  other 

hand. 
The  Captain's  walking  up  in  front,  and  now  he's 

calling  'hep,' 
And  everyone  but  my  papa  is  marching  out  of 

step." 

112 


WILLIE  S    PA 


II 


O,  Willie  Jones,  he  loved  to  see  the  soldiers  march- 
ing by, 

He  went  down  to  the  target  range  to  see  the  bul- 
lets fly, 

And  every  time  they  made  a  shot,  he  cried  "Ain't 
that  a  beaut  I" 

And  clapped  his  hands  in  glee  to  see  his  papa  start 
to  shoot. 

(Chorus) 

"O,  look  at  him,  Ma-ma,  see  him  hold  his  gun, 
And  every  time  he  shoots  it  off  it  hits  him  on  the 

bun. 
He  puts  his  hand  around  the  thing  and  gives  an 

awful  pull, 
The  red  flag  there  is  waving,  O !  it  must  have  been 

a  bull." 


COMPANY    2    NEW    ENGLAND 


COMPANY  2  NEW  ENGLAND 

(Air:  "Lord  Geoff ry  Amherst") 

Oh,  good  old  Uncle  Sam  declared  a  war  on  Kaiser 
Bill, 

When,  his  pledges  "Bill"  neglected  to  fulfill; 

And  the  War  Department  ordered  that  a  train- 
ing camp  should  be, 

So  they  sent  us  up  to  Plattsburg,  don't  you  see? 

So  they  sent  us  up  to  Plattsburg,  don't  you  see? 

And  the  men  from  all  New  England  came  along 
and  gathered  there, 

And  the  companies  they  chose  with  greatest  care. 

But  out  of  all  the  candidates  selected  but  a  few 

To  organize  New  England  Number  2. 

(Chorus) 

Oh,  Captain  Peek  and  Company  Two 

They'll  be  names  known  to  fame  the  whole  world 

o'er. 

They  will  ever  be  glorious 
When  the  Hohenzollerns  reign  no  more. 

114  ^ 


TO   THE    RESERVE    CAVALRY 


TO  THE  RESERVE  CAVALRY 

(Air:  The  Infantry,  the  Infantry,  with  Dirt  Be- 
hind Their  Ears) 


The  Cavalry,  the  Cavalry,  they  haven't  any  horse, 
They're  taking  riding  lessons  by  a  correspondence 

course, 
You'd  think  they  were  equestrians  to  hear  the  way 

they  talk, 
But  when  it  comes  to  riding,  why!     We  always 

see  them  walk. 

II 

The  Cavalry,  the  Cavalry,  are  marching  down  the 

street, 
The  Cavalry,  the  Cavalry,  with  blisters  on  their 

feet, 
The  Artillery  is  mounted  now  and  ready  for  the 

course; 
But  we  never  see  the  Cavalry  with  any  kind  of 

horse. 


WE'RE  ON  OUR  WAY  TO  DEUTSCHLAND 


WE'RE  ON  OUR  WAY  TO  DEUTSCH- 
LAND 

(Air:  Hit  the  Line  for  Harvard) 

We're  on  our  way  to  Deutschland, 
We're  Yankees  through  and  through, 
And  we'll  show  the  Huns  of  Germ'ny 
What  the  U.  S.  A.  can  do. 
With  France  and  Old  England, 
Victory  or  die; 

And  we'll  give  a  rousing  cheer,  boys, 
As  the  allied  flags  go  by. 


116 


I    WANT    TO    BE    A    COLONEL 


I  WANT  TO  BE  A  COLONEL 

(Air:  I  Want  to  Be  Back  Home  in  Dixie) 

I  want  to  be,  I  want  to  be,  I  want  to  be  at  least  a 

Colonel, 
Have  the  Majors  handing  me  salutes,  and  a  man 

to  black  my  boots. 
I  want  to  be,  I  want  to  be,  at  least  a  Colonel, 

C-O-L-O-N-E-L, 

Hold  down  a  desk  and  give  the  captains  Hell. 
I  want  to  be,  I  want  to  be,  I  want  to  be  a  Colonel 

now! 


117 


OUR  BATTLE  HYMN 


I  WANT  TO  BE  A  DOUGHBOY 
(Air:  I  Want  to  Be  a  Yale  Boy} 

I  want  to  be  a  doughboy, 
Doughboy  tried  and  true; 
I  want  to  be  a  doughboy, 
With  a  hat  cord  of  baby  blue. 
I  want  to  be  a  doughboy, 
Do  as  the  doughboys  do; 
So,  papa,  if  I  can 
When  I  get  to  be  a  man, 
I  want  to  be  a  doughboy,  too. 


OUR    BATTLE    HYMN 


OUR  BATTLE  HYMN 

(Air:  "Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic") 

I 
We  have  heard  a  lot  about  a  place  they  call 

"Somewhere  in  France," 
And  we're  going  "Over  There"  to  put  some  pep 

in  the  advance; 
"There's  a  long,  long  trail  before  us,"  but  you 

bet  we'll  take  the  chance, 
As  Five  goes  marching  on. 

(Chorus) 

Glory,  glory,  for  we're  going  to  beat  the  Hun, 
Old  Hindenburg  will  execute  a  new  strategic  run, 
And  Kaiser  Bill  will  find  he  has  no  place  beneath 

the  sun, 
When  Five  goes  marching  on. 

II 

We  are  handy  with  the  rifle  and  the  bayonet  and 
such; 

119 


OUR    BATTLE    HYMN 


And  though  Fritz  is  used  to  running  and  is  sort  of 

hard  to  touch, 
We  will  show  him  when  we  get  there  that  it 

doesn't  matter  much, 
When  Five  is  marching  on. 

(Chorus) 

III 
You  may  say  that  we're  not  modest,  but  our  faults 

we  will  confess, 
We  hate  to  rise  at  Reveille,  we're  not  too  fond  of 

mess; 
And  we  never,  never,  never  get  a  good  line  at 

Right  Dress, 
But  we  do  keep  marching  on. 

(Chorus) 

IV 

Now  all  you  other  fellows  who  are  going  overseas, 
Just  remember  that  we  guarantee  the  foeman  to 

appease; 
So  when  you  hear  we're  coming  you  may  rest  or 

stand  at  ease, 
When  Five  goes  marching  on. 

(Chorus) 
120 


NEW  ENGLAND  WILL  BE  LEADING 

NEW  ENGLAND  WILL  BE  LEADING 

(Air:  John  Brown's  Body) 

New  England  will  be  leading  when  we're  march- 
ing up  the  Rhine, 

New  York  will  be  the  rear  guard  and  we'll  leave 
them  far  behind, 

We'll  conquer  German  cities  and  we'll  capture 
Kaiser  Bill, 

As  we  go  marching  on. 

Glory,  glory  to  New  England ! 

Glory,  glory  to  New  England ! 

Glory,  glory  to  New  England! 

As  we  go  marching  on. 


121 


ON  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  RIVER  RHINE 


ON  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  RIVER  RHINE 

(Air:  "Through  Those  Wonderful  Glasses  of 
Mine") 

Germany,    we're    coming    over,    we    are    going 

straight  to  France; 
We  are  praying  for  a  chance, 
Just  to  make  your  soldiers  dance. 
Kaiser  Bill,  your  doom  is  coming;  take  a  tip,  old 

top,  RESIGN! 
For  we'll  drink  beer  in  June, 
By  the  light  of  the  moon, 
On  the  banks  of  the  River  Rhine. 


122 


"THE  SIMULATING  OF  THE  GREEN' 


"THE  SIMULATING  OF  THE  GREEN" 
(Air:  "Wearing  of  the  Green"} 

Oh,  Major  dear,  and  did  you  hear  the  news  that's 

going  round? 
We   Cavalry   must   simulate   till   horses   can  be 

found ; 
We  gallop  and  we  single-foot  as  handsome  as  can 

be, 
But  on  our  own  two  feet  we  ride — a  horse  you'll 

never  see. 
'Tis  the  most  amazing  spectacle  that's  ever  graced 

the  green; 
A  hundred  men  a-riding  where  no  horses  can  be 

seen. 

Oh,  Colonel  dear,  ye'll  grieve  to  hear  Artillery's 

the  same, 
Compared  to  simulating  guns,  a  hcfrse  is  rather 

tame ; 
Last  night  I  was  the  left  rear  wheel — it  made  me 

moighty  sore, 

123 


THE    SIMULATING   OF    THE    GREEN 

But  dommed  if  I  will  be  the  swab  and  crawl  in- 
side the  bore. 

'Tis  the  most  amazing  spectacle  that's  ever  graced 
the  green, 

A-firing  rounds  and  salvos  where  no  cannons  can 
be  seen. 


124 


DON  T    SEND    ME    HOME 


DON'T  SEND  ME  HOME 
(Air:  Don't  Take  Me  Home) 

Don't  send  me  home,  please  don't  send  me  home. 

Tell  me,  where  did  I  make  that  break? 

Oh,  oh,  oh,  oh,  have  a  little  pity. 

I'm  a  poor  candidate,  in  search  of  war  I  roam. 

I'll  do  anything  you  want  me  to,  but  don't 

Send  me  home. 


125 


COMPANY    NINE 


COMPANY  NINE 
(Air:  "Far  Above  Cayuga's  Water"} 

Hark,  ye  Rookies,  to  the  chorus 

Of  old  Company  Nine; 

Captains,  Colonels,  all  adore  us, 

When  we  fall  in  line. 

Tho'  we're  doughboys,  we're  not  slow  boys, 

Thanks  to  Sargeant  Hill; 

And  when  we  take  our  stand  in  Deutschland, 

Lord  help  Kaiser  Bill! 

In  the  morning  at  the  warning, 

"Clothes  on  Company  Nine  1" 

Feeling  rocky,  into  khaki 

Jumps  our  valiant  line. 

We  shun  strawberries  in  the  valley 

Off  the  Peru  road, 

But  in  mess  shack  none  can  beat  us 

At  the  order  "Load  I" 


126 


COMPANY    NINE 


In  Pabst-less  Plattsburg,  bone-dry  rookies, 

Waiting  for  our  kale, 

Our  healths  we  drink  in  foamless  bumpers, 

Full  of  Adam's  ale. 

But  when  the  "Sammies"  take  their  Miinchener 

On  the  river  Rhine, 

The  toast  will  be  to  old  New  England 

And  to  Company  Nine. 


127 


WE  RE    ON    OUR    WAY   TO    EUROPE 

WE'RE  ON  OUR  WAY  TO  EUROPE 

(Air:  "My  Wife's  Away  in  Europe") 

We're  on  our  way  to  Europe, 
And  we  won't  come  back. 
And  we  won't  come  back. 
We're  going  to  shoot  an  awful  pill 
Into  the  hide  of  Kaiser  Bill. 
Von  Hindenburg  can't  stop  us; 
We  laugh  at  him,  hee !  hee ! 
We've  shot  the  pistol  twice  before, 
Can't  hit  the  side  of  a  barn  door. 
We're  on  our  way  to  Europe 
To  lay  Bill  cross  our  knee. 


128 


COMPANY    5    SONG 


COMPANY  5  SONG 
(Original  Music  by  Mr.  H.  T.  Morgan) 

I 

On  guard!    We're  always  on  our  toes; 
Plattsburg  has  taught  us  pep. 
We're  good  at  being  Red  or  Blue, 
But  oh,  that  step ! 

Though  we  may  lose  a  few  patrols, 
Just  watch  the  Allied  drive. 
Right  where  they  reach  the  Rhine,  there 
You'll  find  New  England  Five. 

2 

Forward!    We're  on  our  way  to  France; 
We'll  make  it  hot  for  Fritz. 
With  bayonet  or  rifle, 
Watch  us  score  all  hits. 
Heads  up !    We're  after  Hindenburg, 
We'll  show  him  we're  alive; 
When  we  get  through  with  him,  he 
Will  know  New  England  Five. 

129 


DOUBLE    TIME 


DOUBLE  TIME 

(Air:  Tammany) 

Double  time,  double  time ! 
We're  the  boys  with  running  feet, 
And  we  never  mind  the  heat. 
Double  time,  double  time ! 
Battr'y  three,  you  always  see  at 
Double  time. 

Double  time,  double  time! 
On  the  run  we  always  keep, 
We  even  do  it  in  our  sleep. 
Double  time,  double  time ! 
When  we  eat  our  food  goes  down  at 
Double  time. 

Double  time,  double  time ! 
Always  jump  and  run  like  Hell, 
Faster  than  a  British  shell. 
Double  time,  double  time! 
Boche  can't  hit  us,  for  we  move  at 
Double  time. 
130 


DOUBLE    TIME 


Double  time,  double  time! 
It's  the  surest  road  to  fame, 
If  you  live  and  don't  get  lame. 
Double  time,  double  time! 
Hammond's  favorite  outdoor  sport  is 
Double  time. 


THE    8TH    NEW    ENGLAND 


THE  8TH  NEW  ENGLAND 
(Air:  Michael  Roy) 

The  Eighth  New  England  Infantry  is  the  one  that 
shows  them  how ; 

If  Kaiser  Bill  could  see  us  drill,  the  war  would 
be  over  now. 

Out  in  front  of  the  Hostess  House,  as  we  go 
marching  by 

Where  the  ladies  are  sitting,  they  drop  their  knit- 
ting, and  all  begin  to  cry : 

"For  oh !     For  oh !     What  a  wonderful  com- 
pany! 

It  must  be  either  the  General  Staff  or  Company 
8  N.  E. 

If  Elihu  Root  could  see  us  shoot  out  on  the  rifle 

range 
He'd  send  us  to  Russia  to  help  lick  Prussia — oh, 

what  a  glorious  change ! 
If  General  Pershing  could  hear  us  cursing  the 

whistle  that  blows  too  soon, 

132 


THE    8TH    NEW    ENGLAND 


There'd  be  a  decree  that  reveille  would  come  in 
the  afternoon. 

"For  oh!  For  oh!  What  a  wonderful  com- 
pany! 

It  must  be  either  the  General  Staff  or  Company 
8  N.  E. 


133 


MARCHING   ON  THE   RHINE 


MARCHING  ON  THE  RHINE 

(Air:  Rocky  Road  to  Dublin) 

When  marching  on  the  Rhine,  boys, 

We'll  be  singing  this  song 

As  we're  marching  along. 

When   marching  on  the   Rhine,   boys, 

On  our  hunt  for  Kaiser  Bill, 

We'll  shoot  the  Germans  out  of  France, 

We'll  keep  them  on  the  run; 

When  we  get  there  the  world  will  know, 

New  England  has  begun, 

To  fight  for  Uncle  Sammy. 

We'll  do  our  best, 

And  never  will  rest, 

Until  Old  Glory  rises  to  the  sun. 

Over  the  sea,  boys, 

Over  the  sea  to  Victory, 

New  England  will  fight  on  forever. 


'34 


EGGS AGERATED 


EGGS— AGERATED 

Since  I've  come  to  Plattsburg 
I've  eaten  so  many  eggs, 
That  feathers  now  adorn  my  skin, 
And  spurs  are  on  my  legs. 


135 


WITH   APOLOGIES   TO    KIPLING'S    "THE    VAMPIRE' 


WITH  APOLOGIES  TO  KIPLING'S  "THE 
VAMPIRE" 

A  fool  there  was,  and  he  made  his  prayer, 

(Even  as  you  and  I) 

Tho't  he  would  hold  down  a  colonel's  chair, 

So  he  came  up  here  to  do  and  dare, 

But  the  skipper  decided  he  wasn't  there, 

(Even  as  you  and  I). 

Oh,  the  days  we  waste,  and  the  pay  we  waste, 
And  the  work  of  our  hands  and  feet 
Belong  to  the  days  we  did  not  know, 
(And  now  we  know  we  never  could  know) 
Enough  to  stand  still  at  retreat. 

Oh,  the  sleep  we  lost  and  the  weight  we  lost, 
And  the  things  we  had  to  eat 
Can  never  come  back  to  make  us  want, 
(We  hope  they  can't  and  pray  they  sha'n't) 
If  they  did  we'd  admit  we  were  beat. 


136 


WITH   APOLOGIES   TO    KIPLING  S      THE    VAMPIRE 

The  fool  was  stripped  to  his  foolish  hide, 

(Even  as  you  and  I) 

And  they  wouldn't  let  him  be  rear  guide, 

(So  some  of  him  lived,  but  the  most  of  him  died) 

And  he  stayed  a  "rookie"  just  outside 

(Even  as  you  and  I). 


137 


FINIS 


FINIS 

There's  a  lot  that's  pretty  funny  in  the  life  we  lead 

up  here, 
The  problems  and  the  hikin'  and  the  mess; 

But  sometimes  when  I'm  all  alone  I  get  a  little 

blue, 
And  that's  the  way  with  everyone,  I  guess. 

I  often  sit  and  wonder  what  it's  really  all  about, 
And  what  the  end  of  all  this  will  be; 

It  seems  almost  impossible  that  we  will  be  at  war, 
And  see  the  things  a  soldier  has  to  see. 

It's  something  more  than  just  parade  and  some- 
thing more  than  drill, 

And  something  more  than  hiking  in  the  rain. 
It  means  that  lots  of  friends  we've  made  are  go- 
ing over  seas, 
And  some  of  them  will  not  come  back  again. 


138 


FINIS 

There's  not  a  single  man  of  us  who  really  wants 

to  fight, 

And  maybe  die  somewhere  in  France — but  then, 
It's  war,  and  since  it  must  be  done,  we'll  try  to  do 

it  right. 
God  willing,  we'll  acquit  ourselves  like  men. 


139 


Win-to  tbtf  RoaKie  to  the  Enid. 


•UNIVERSITY  of  CALIFORNIA 

AT 

LOS  ANGELES 
LIBRARY 


